Subject to Change: Looking ...

as always, Akosua Dufie Adasi ...

I went in search of our mothers’ gardens and found unmarked graves littered with too short lives

In bits and pieces their legacies lay at the feet of cancers, heartaches, troubles in minds (s/quashed) into too narrow spaces, their full potentials gobbled up by foreign actors and spat out — all chewed up, mucky with stains of cowardice — its belly full of yellow, glistening and shimmering with fever

I went in search of our mother’s garden, picked my way through discarded things and refuse of the tumescent kind

I called out and heard

Loud and Clear

a great big bell

clanging

ur-gently clanging

W/ringing out; admonitions

to “Stay clear of hell!”

to keep our warmth for our own nourishment

I went into the graveyard and

plunged and plucked through the keen weeds — triumphant in their home alongside the Brave — there I laid me down and saw a dawn, orange and glorious …